After All
by ShadowObsession
Summary: Sandy knows what Pitch has done, perhaps better than anyone else, but he can't help but think this is partially his fault. After the others go their own way, the Sandman decides to look for an old... well, he'll look, nevertheless. Image by WortCat on DeviantArt. Used with permission.


**Title: **After All  
**Author Name:** ShadowObsession  
**Rating:** PG  
**Spoilers:** For Rise of the Guardians  
**Genre:** Friendship/Drama  
**Main Character(s):** Sandman, Pitch Black  
**Ship(s):** None  
**Summary:** Sandy knows what Pitch has done, perhaps better than anyone else, but he can't help but think this is partially his fault. After the others go their own way, the Sandman decides to look for an old... well, he'll look, nevertheless.  
**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations not created by me. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
**Author's Notes:** Inspired by Sandy's expression when he's destroyed. He doesn't look angry, but betrayed. Why would he look like that, if he considered Pitch an enemy? I might write something with more Jack in it, suggestions are welcome.

~oOo~

"Sandy! You okay?" The golden spirit nodded, forming sand pictures above his head to assure North that he was perfectly fine. The big man's eyes lingered for a moment, uncertain, but then he looked back to the bickering Bunnymund and Jack, Tooth chattering to her fairies in the interlude in the pleasant conversation.

Christmas was fairly far away, and Easter was just over, so they had stayed together for a bit longer than usual, mostly for Jack. Sandy had happily accepted the offer, even he eventually became lonely. Even so, after being alone for so long, none of the Guardians were completely comfortable with the constant companionship, except, perhaps, for Tooth, who's fairies never left her side.

Sandy fell back into his thoughts. He was easily the oldest of them, perhaps even older than The Man in the Moon. He had been around to see North grow up, had been the first to be chosen to be a Guardian. The only being on the planet that could possible be older than he was the subject of his thoughts, his old enemy, Pitch Black.

To be fair, he supposed, both of them liked to think themselves the elder, petty as it may be. He had lived for decades before meeting the Nightmare King, and, in the beginning, they had hated each other. He could easily remember that meeting, the ensuing fight, and the ache that had followed him for many nights as he worked. He had lost that first encounter, but it hadn't lasted.

~oOo~

_Sandy smiled as the child hugged the ragged blanket closer to herself, smiling in her sleep. The dream that swirled above her head sparkled brilliantly. Sandy floated backward, and began to sneak out of the cave. The woman and her husband wouldn't wake, but the other children might. Before floating away, he turned to see the pleasant dreams one last time. Even after over thirty years of this, this part never got old._

_Sandy got a nasty shock when he turned. One of the dreams was being circled by a strange black shape. As he watched, it reached out and touched his dream-sand, the beautiful dream darkened, and then spun into a spiral, before vanishing into nothingness._

_Startled, Sandy backed out of the cave, moving to float above the tiny group of humans. He glanced around, finding several of the strange things destroying his dreams. He spotted one in the only family group he hadn't visited yet, and moved to see what would happen without his interference. _

_The dark being spun around the child's head, before taking form. As it settled in, it became darker. Sandy could see what it formed as easily as he could see his dream-sand. As the child began to twist in it's sleep, Sandy frowned, moving closer. He reached out to touch it, and it sprang into gold, before exploding in a flash of golden light. Curious, Sandy tried to spin another dream. It floated above the child, before moving off without anchoring._

_Sandy rose into the air, to get the greater picture of the dream-sand and the odd, nightmarish creatures who interrupted his work. After watching for several minutes, he sent dream-sand toward the dark beings, destroying them, before moving off to the next group of humans. Even if he couldn't give them sweet dreams, he could remove those horrid dark dreams._

_As he reached the next group of humans, he was stunned to find that the dark beings had beaten him there. He quickly sent his dream-sand to prevent the humans from being woken by their dreams. After they vanished, the humans settled back down. Sandy frowned, and prepared to move on, hoping to catch the next group of people before these things did._

_His dream-sand aided him in his quick flight. There was a small group of people nearby, just beyond the curve in the trail. Small family groups occasionally joined together, but for the most part, they stayed apart. He spun around the side of the mountain, hoping he had beaten those dark creatures, only to smack headfirst into something that hadn't been there when he'd made this same trip yesterday. _

_He caught himself, and created a cloud with his dream-sand. The being he had run into was dark and tall, thin with an angular face. He was held aloft by a mass of the strange dark smoke which reminded him of the strange creatures in the last village. As they stared at each other, the dark spirit brushing the glowing dream-sand off his cloak, Sandy realized that this must be the master of those strange beings he had encountered._

"_Who are you?" the spirit demanded of him, Sandy frowned, before quickly forming images to inform him that he was the Sandman, and he brought sweet dreams. He then demanded to know who he was. The dark spirit scowled darkly at him._

"_I didn't understand any of that,"Sandy scowled at him, and repeated it, very slowly. The dark being first frowned, then smirked at him. "Ah, the Sandman, the Dreambringer. Interesting. I am Pitch Black, the Boogeyman, King of the Nightmares."_

_Pitch motioned to the humans below, plagued with the small creatures...the Boogeyman's nightmares. Sandy looked back up to the darker spirit, informing him that he did not approve. From the Nightmare King's expression, he doubted he could understand the whirr of images, but caught the general idea. As Sandy ranted, Pitch looked down to the humans below._

"_Listen, little man, I don't know what's wrong with you, but I've been here since these humans existed. You can find someone else to bother with your precious dreams," Sandy glowered at him, before lifting both hands, and sending a wake of dream-sand down to stop the nightmares. Pitch attempted to stop him, knocking the golden spirit off balance by flinging a nightmare at his face. _

_He fell backward, catching himself with dream-sand and forming a sword with it, slicing the nightmare into pieces. Pitch formed two more, then formed a weapon of his own. Sandy didn't have time to see what, he lengthened the sword, and caught both nightmares with one swing. The sword swinging like a rope to fling them away from him. _

_Before he could turn back to the Boogeyman, Pitch struck him, Sandy falling from the protection of the cloud made of dream-sand and toward the ground. Chilling laughter followed him, as Sandy plummeted toward the ground. _

_Dream-sand managed to save him from hitting the ground full force, but he rolled hard, body aching from the blow as he tried to sit up. He rants silently, too angry to form sand images, in the end, settling for blowing dream-sand out of his ears as the slash across his mid-section heals. The night sky is empty, the Sandman is alone, and he isn't sure he should be happy about it._

_Eventually, he summons another dream-sand cloud, and returns to the sky, high above the earth. Tonight, the Nightmare King can rule, he has an idea, something which will easily defeat the Boogeyman and his nightmares. Until then, sleep will make him heal quicker._

~oOo~

After they knew each other existed, they made a point of encroaching on the others' territory. The fights had been vicious, but never permanent. There was never a solid winner, their very nature wouldn't allow that. If the Sandman won one night, the next, it was Pitch's turn. The balance shifted during every fight, and neither liked it.

Several centuries later, Sandy had been horrified to learn that he was neglecting his duty. Instead of spending his time spreading good dreams, he spent most of his time attempting to best Pitch. That night, he had sought out Pitch. The Boogeyman hadn't been overly happy to be interrupted, apparently, he hadn't kept up with his work. Either. Sandy had refused to fight, dodging the attack and talking him down as best he could, before explaining his proposal.

At first, Pitch had been disbelieving. Oh, he had accepted, but he didn't seem to believe that the Sandman would keep up his end of the bargain. It had taken centuries for him to gain any sort of trust in his counterpart. Sandy had always been the subject of scrutiny, the darker being refusing to relax in his presence. It still lightened his heart to remember the first time Pitch had turned his back on him mid-conversation, to attend to a nightmare.

~oOo~

_Sandy had been caught by surprise when the Nightmare King appeared. _

_He slunk out of the shadows, hovering next to the cloud of dream-sand silently, studying the little village where Sandy spent most of his time. The Dreambringer smiled at him, wondering, not for the first time, what the other saw when he looked down._

_Sandy's dream-sand circled above the children's heads, Sandy occasionally changing a dream to suit his wishes. He only had to look at a person to tell what their fondest dream was. He rarely gave that dream, however. A good dream could only be replayed so many times before it became dull. Most of them reflected momentary fancies._

_Those who dreamed what Pitch wished them to were different. Sandy doubted that it was always their worst nightmare, be he wasn't sure. He could see the nightmare, but he had no idea exactly how much it scared the person it was attached to. Did Pitch see fears with that sixth sense that made Sandy alter dreams of those hundreds of thousands of miles away with but a thought? _

_They hovered in silence for a long time. Sandy didn't speak, and Pitch saw no reason to speak to the little spirit. The pleasant night was broken when one of Sandy's dreams began to run wild. He was forced to turn his full attention to the little girl, who was straying far too close to the edge of a nightmare for Sandy's liking. Her brother was gone, and here, that often meant he would never return. Sandy nudged the dream back into his territory, glancing at Pitch only once, to find that the Boogeyman was watching with interest, but making no move to stop Sandy from controlling the dream._

_He trusted the spirit enough not to hit him while his back was turned, enough to occasionally seek out his company when the lonesomeness became too much. He didn't trust him not to interfere with unwatched dreams. Sandy coached the dream back into happiness and light, before turning back to the greater picture. He gave the rest of the humans a quick check, finding that several of his dreams were over, the human having woken suddenly. The rest were quiet, and he focused his attention back to his village._

_Pitch was the one who spoke first, it wasn't directed at the Sandman, but at one of his nightmares. Sandy cast a glance at him as the Nightmare King began to draw one of his nightmares back in. He snarled at the thing, before twisting it into something almost – if the Sandman dared think it – pleasant. It was fighting him, and eventually, with a sharp, warning glance at the smaller spirit, Pitch floated toward it to mold it carefully. _

_It calmed under his attention, before darkening slowly. Pitch watched for several minutes, occasionally nudging it in a certain direction, before appearing satisfied with his work. He returned to his position beside the Dreambringer, directing a glare in Sandy's direction. Sandy smiled back, forming pictures to question is Pitch's nightmares were ever difficult, as his dreams could be._

_Pitch looked taken aback. He and Sandy occasionally – rarely in Pitch's case – sought out the others' company, but they had never before asked about the work their counterpart did. Just when Sandy began to wonder if the Nightmare King would leave without answering him, Pitch spoke._

"_Not often," he watched Sandy with a suspicious air as he spoke. The Dreambringer ignored it, fascinated by the dark nightmares that spun in the night air, less than his dreams, and when the two came into contact, they canceled each other out. "However, it only takes so long for the same nightmare to become dulled, no matter how terrifying. They begin to get in a pattern, and if I don't watch them, will merely replay the same thing every night."_

_Sandy beamed at him, which only appeared to make Pitch more uncomfortable, thinking quickly, he explained as best he could with pictures the faults with his dreams. How, not often, but usually at least once a night, one of his dreams would inadvertently become a nightmare. It would entrance the human's imagination, which would then take over. He needed to adjust it slightly, control it himself, and it would easily turn back._

_Pitch listened intently, to the Sandman's surprise, and when he was finished his explanation, the Nightmare King didn't reply with anything more than a note on how interesting it was that their work was strangely similar. When day dawned here, and Sandy prepared to travel to the other side of the world, he was surprised to find Pitch had followed. He never did, Sandy suspected he had his own village on this side that he preferred to watch over, as Sandy did. _

_But he wouldn't turn away the company, and much, much later, when the Boogeyman vanished, Sandy missed the silent company in the lonely night._

~oOo~

Of course, for all the – he dared call it friendship – that had developed between himself and Pitch, lasting even throughout the Dark Ages, when Pitch almost seemed to allow him more freedom that he could have. Sandy had been weak, but the Nightmare King had never made fun of him for it. He had never purposefully drawn the Dreambringer into a fight that the golden spirit had no chance of winning. Sandy knew that Pitch considered it his fault that he had been forgotten, and blamed him for allowing it when he had never forgotten the Dreambringer.

It had been he who had made the greatest impact, giving the children dreams of the holidays to help the others. As Pitch slipped back into the distant memories, the others had agreed that they needed to remove him from the scene altogether. Sandy hadn't agreed. He had slipped away, to think. Perhaps he had stayed away too long.

It was then that he realized it wasn't his choice. As Pitch's power faded, he had begun to seek out his counterpart more often. Sandy showed him the same consideration Pitch showed him. He allowed the Nightmare King more reign over the night to let him keep as much of his power as he could. Pitch and he often spoke, and that tentative trust which had taken thousands of years to form was solid enough to make them unworried and almost careless in the presence of the other.

It was only when Tooth showed up that Sandy realized his mistake. He had joined the Guardians, and they worried after him. After the fight, after making sure that his friends weren't hurt too badly, he had sought Pitch out. The Boogeyman had retreated to his underground lair, which none of the others knew existed. It had been Sandy who had hurt him the worst, in defense of Tooth, who had no chance against the Nightmare King, no matter how little power he had left.

He had found Pitch watching his globe, tuned specificity to the nightmares, which was slowly going out. His presence hadn't been welcomed. As soon as he'd been seen, Pitch had scrambled for the shadows, where no amount of searching would yield him if he chose to remain hidden.

Sandy had tried to convince him that he had nothing to do with the fight. He hadn't set him up. He didn't mean for it to happen. The response had been simple. When Pitch realized he wasn't going to leave, the Nightmare King simply vanished. With no one to speak to, without even being sure that Pitch remained to see his explanation, Sandy had no choice except to leave.

That had been the end of it. That was the last time he had entered Pitch's lair. Pitch was weak, and all but forgotten, and with the watchful Guardians, he had no chance to return to any amount of power. Until now, of course. All but forgotten even by his enemies, the Boogeyman had managed to fight back.

Sandy waited until it was over. Until Tooth flew off to her palace with all the fairies – except one, which insisted upon remaining with Jack, much to the Guardian's amusement; until Bunnymund had gone back to the warren, to sleep, to prepare for next year; until North returned to his workshop. Jack was the last to leave, he had expected to see them much more, Sandy knew, and the elder Guardians work wouldn't allow that.

Sandy apologized for his departure, and insisted he would visit Jack soon. Jack agreed, and then he quickly vanished with a sharp gust of cold air. Sandy was glad, he couldn't have left the winter spirit alone while he went in search of trouble.

It didn't take him long to arrive at the entrance to Pitch's lair, unsure of what he would find. He entered, making his dream-sand light the way, glowing brightly so the nightmares would remain in the shadows, and Pitch wouldn't be startled by him. He wasn't sure of his welcome. He didn't know if he would be attacked. As he entered the darkness, he eyed the nightmares cautiously, but he didn't turn back.

Without Pitch's power, they were weak. He was surprised that so many of them still managed to keep their forms when not spreading bad dreams. It had been a very, very long time since Sandy had entered the underground lair, but the old pathways were still there. He didn't have to search to find Pitch. After the nightmares brought him here – and Sandy suspected that it wasn't entirely as clean-cut as the other Guardians thought – he had destroyed the globe.

It had been there since Sandy had first entered this place, and to see it crumpled, half-melted, only increased the guilt which had been nagging at him since the Dark Ages. Pitch was seated in the place where he had kept his throne in the height of his power. The throne itself was gone, his powers barely able to keep the nightmares from disintegrating, he had none to spare for comfort. The Nightmare King bristled as Sandy set down, far enough away to keep the dark spirit from fleeing, but close enough for his sand images to be easily read.

Sandy didn't know how to explain why he was here, he himself barely knew. One of the nightmares approached them, the others slinking back to the shadows. Despite everything, when she approached, Pitch still lifted a hand to brush over her muzzle. Normally, Sandy would have settled onto a cloud of dream-sand, but it seemed cruel to remind Pitch of what had been taken from him, in his own lair no less.

There they sat, on the cold, hard ground, in silence broken only by the snorts and high-pitched whinnies of the nightmares. Here, the light never changed. Sandy had never been sure where it came from, for nothing evident lit the caverns, but he knew it had nothing to do with the sun. The only evidence of time passing was his connection to his dreamlits, which moved as the humans woke and slept, and there was several hours of lee-way either way using only that. It had been near dark when he entered the caverns, and as the nightmares left, leaving silence in their wake, Sandy knew night had fallen above them. He called in several of his dreamlits, leaving the nightmares free to work without wasting energy fighting him.

"What do you want?" It was the question Sandy had been dreading since he entered the Nightmare King's lair. He couldn't exactly apologize. Yes, he felt partly responsible for Pitch's downfall at the end of the Dark Ages, and he knew Pitch blamed him; however, to admit it would soon see him driven from the lair, even it it wasted the night. He couldn't exactly begin to talk of nothing, Pitch had killed him, after all. So he did the only thing he could. He told the truth.

Sandy wasn't sure if Pitch didn't believe him, or just didn't understand his meaning. Either way, he received no reply for several agonizing minutes. When the Boogeyman did respond, he didn't look at Sandy. He didn't even move, the only thing he had done since Sandy arrived was pet the nightmare which requested his attention. The Dreambringer was unsure if that was because he didn't want to waste the energy, or he actually couldn't spare the energy. He knew which he hoped, and which he suspected, unfortunately, however, they weren't the same.

"I don't want your pity. I don't want your company. I don't even want your help." Pitch remained perfectly still, but Sandy noted he tensed, preparing to dart into the shadows if Sandy so much as inched toward him. The golden being didn't move, just elaborated on his former answer. He didn't think Pitch wanted his help, and he wasn't so foolish as to admit he knew that the Nightmare King needed it. Instead, he reminded him of their former friendship. He explained how he had seemed to relive his life as he was returned to a solid form, he didn't explain more than he thought Pitch could accept now, he didn't want to drive him away.

"We stopped being anything except enemies when you set me up. Allowed your precious Guardians to attack me without reason. When you killed me," Pitch's voice only held the barest hint of accusation, and Sandy accepted that he believed this to be the truth. Forcing himself to slow down, to not viciously deny what he had known was felt for so long, he explained what he had tried to so very long ago. He forced himself not to look as Pitch observed out of the corner of his eye, the miscellanea of images which he used to explain his point.

He hadn't set him up, he hadn't known Tooth would seek him out that night, and he hadn't even sought Pitch out. He was very, very sorry that Pitch had ended up so badly, but he could not allow him to harm the weaker Tooth Fairy. The others had reacted to the commotion, leaving Sandy without a choice, he knew how powerful Pitch was, and he couldn't let him hurt them. When Sandy had tried to step in, to prevent the Guardians from attacking, everything had gone badly. Sandy didn't point out that he had tried to explain this before, he knew that Pitch wouldn't take it at all well.

"I was _forgotten_. For hundreds of years, everyone forgot about me! I barely had enough power to return to a solid form, it took me centuries to be able to begin to send out my nightmares. _Centuries_ where not one person remembered me, much less feared me. How can you say that is wasn't your fault?" the Dreambringer winced as Pitch spoke, remembering well how it had felt to be utterly forgotten, for not nearly for as long as his counterpart had suffered.

He responded carefully, knowing that the only reason Pitch spoke to him with such honesty was because he held no hope of being able to manipulate him. He explained, that he did not consider it his fault, but he was sorry. For a long time afterward, they sat in silence. The nightmares returned, unable to travel far from the Nightmare King in his weakened state. Pitch would have to wait for night to fall above his lair before he could continue to gather power.

Pitch turned his head when Sandy spoke – in his way – first. In all the time had had known the Dreambringer, he only did so when he had no other choice. Sandy almost seemed to enjoy silence more than speech. Sandy explained that Pitch was wrong. Although none had feared him for a very long time, he had been well remembered, if by no one else, then by Sandy himself.

Pitch didn't know how to respond to that. He had never even considered that Sandy had thought of him after so completely devastating him. Sandy watched as the Nightmare King straightened slightly, before meeting the golden being's gaze with startled eyes. "Now that you've assuaged your guilt, I suppose you'll be leaving now."

Sandy ignored the flat tone, reading the unheard, unspoken question underneath. The Dreambringer met the Nightmare King's gaze steadily, and answered so simply, even Pitch could not deliberately sway his meaning. The edge of Pitch's mouth touched into a smile as Sandy created a image of himself, pointed to it with an arrow, and then pointed to the ground with that arrow.

"And your precious Guardians? Surely they will never understand," Pitch pointed out. He knew that Sandy held them in high regard, despite watching them as mortals when the Sandman was ancient already. Why would the Dreambringer risk their friendship to help him, after all he had done? Centuries upon centuries of having only Pitch as a companion allowed Sandy to read the question, and responded without actually answering.

He was staying here. Neither Pitch nor the Guardians could convince him otherwise. If Pitch didn't like his company, then the Nightmare King should leave.

They fell into companionable silence. Pitch waiting for Sandy to leave all the while. Without enough energy to compel himself to move, he would spend a great many days doing little more than this. He looked up again when the nightmares moved to leave, to the sleeping humans above. He watched then rush excitedly out the tunnels, and glanced at the Dreambringer to see his reaction to wasting a day in the company of his enemy.

Pitch didn't quite know what to think, when he found the King of Dreams sound asleep.

~oOo~

So, what did you think?


End file.
